Dream a Little Dream
by Lila2
Summary: Sometimes she rubs her belly and thinks about what might have been


Title: "Dream a Little Dream"  
  
Author: Lila  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Spoiler: "How Can You Be So Sure?"  
  
'Ship: none  
  
Length: very short one-shot  
  
Summary: Sometimes she rubs her belly and wonders what might have been  
  
Author's Note:  
  
Just a little insight into the mind of my fave character. Hope you enjoy!  
  
~ * ~  
  
"Dreams, sharin a life and a home  
  
Dreams, of never ever bein alone again  
  
Not even diamonds just a little gold  
  
Someone there to hold her hand when she gets old  
  
Dreams, the kind you know will never end  
  
Forever lovers and forever friends  
  
Someone really there to love and care and share  
  
Dreams"  
  
- "Dreams," Kenny Chesney  
  
~ * ~  
  
Sometimes, deep in the night, she rubs her belly and wonders what might have been.   
  
If only she hadn't lied--if only it was real.  
  
Sometimes she even dreams about it, her belly growing big and round and full, sharp feet beating against her skin. She imagines tickling tiny toes and little fingers wrapping around her thumb. She feels silky skin against her cheek and smells baby shampoo on the wind. She sees wispy blonde hair and denim blue eyes and teeny Duke jerseys she'll order from the college bookstore. She can feel his weight in her arms, pressed tight against her rapidly beating heart--until she shoots up in her bed, heart racing, and remembers it's all in her head. None of it's real, because she made it that way.  
  
She sees him at school, passes him in the hall when he's joking with Haley or staring after Peyton with moony blue eyes. She sees him clear as day, the way she sees him in her dreams, smiling and laughing as his baby makes its way into the world. She'll watch him in class, the way his long fingers curl around the length of his pen and in her mind's eye those same fingers are splayed across the bulge of her belly while the baby kicks. And in the next second he presses kisses up and down her cheeks while she giggles and giggles and tells him how happy she feels. And then she'll blink and it's gone and all she sees are Bic pens and crisp white paper and an English test she forgot to study for.  
  
She skips cheerleading practice again, for the third time in two weeks, and ignores the coach threatening to cut her. She remembers the night she won Best Choreographer at the Sparkle Classic, how important it was to win--and how she'd felt when the announcer placed the trophy in her arms--hollow, empty, ready to break. She glances at the trophy, prim and proper beside her mirror, and resists the urge to hurl. She has a nice new bauble, a shiny new toy--but it doesn't change anything. Lucas still wants Peyton, Peyton wants Lucas…and no one wants her.  
  
She slips in her bed, pulls the covers to her chin like her mother did when she was a little girl, and closes her eyes. Mouth's sweet face swims before her eyes, his open, honest eyes pleading with her to let him help. And she sees herself whispering in the dark, "A girl just wants someone to want her back," and the way her face fell against his hard, flat chest and his shirt caught her tears. He'd smoothed his hands down her back, long fingered and gentle, and for a moment she forgot those fingers cradled microphones not basketballs…for a moment she got to forget--until she'd shown up in the park and he'd looked at her with pity and horror in his blue eyes and everything had fallen to pieces. She'd gone home with one boy's taste on her tongue and another's baby in her belly, and that hollow feeling beneath her heart, because he might have wanted her baby, but he sure as hell didn't want her. She could see it in his eyes, that special place where she'd drowned herself in love and truth and hope--until blonde curls and nimble fingers had shattered her dreams.   
  
She tells her herself she's lucky she isn't going to end up a statistic, lucky she won't celebrate her eighteenth birthday with a toddler clinging to her hip. And she knows she's lucky--even if she dreams otherwise.   
  
She and Lucas are at Open Mike Night, while Jake strums his guitar and he holds her hand and Jenny gurgles beside them. She remembers staring at the baby, tracing Jake's nose and mouth with her eyes, smiling when she extends one tiny fist her way, laughing when she jangles Peyton's keys in the other. Afterwards Jake lets her hold her, shows her how to cradle her back and support her head, take care of his daughter just right. Jenny watches her with big brown eyes, lets her drown in her eyes. She sees trust there, and love, even though they just met. She sees herself and Lucas a little down the road, filling an SUV with blonde haired babies and basketballs and pompoms. She sees her future in Jenny's eyes, a house and a yard and a guy who gives a rat's ass about her. She remembers why everyone loves babies--because babies love you back, no questions asked--even when no one else does.   
  
She doesn't think about that night anymore, doesn't let pipe dreams cross her mind…except times like these, when she wonders what it would might have been…if someone had wanted her.  
  
~ * ~  
  
So, what do you think? 


End file.
